


open your mind (to the possibility (nay, the fact))

by HurricanesWriting



Category: Hades (Video Game 2018)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Gen, Hades (Video Game 2018) Spoilers, Hades A+ Parenting, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Patroclus cares very deeply for Zagreus and isnt aware of it until hes ready to fight gods for him, Stranger (affectionate), Zagreus cares very deeply for Patroclus and is well aware of this and, no spoilers for anything after the credits, persephone and hades are only mentioned but theyre important mentions, spoilers for stuff before the credits, the tldr on this fic is, this can be read as either romantic or platonic, you choose
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-18 20:02:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28623771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HurricanesWriting/pseuds/HurricanesWriting
Summary: Patroclus didn’t understand how someone could supposedly care so sincerely for a person who was essentially a stranger to them.He stumbled upon a sort of understanding he wasn't expecting when he next saw Zagreus.
Relationships: Patroclus & Zagreus (Hades Video Game), Patroclus/Zagreus (Hades Video Game)
Comments: 35
Kudos: 221





	open your mind (to the possibility (nay, the fact))

**Author's Note:**

> This can be read as platonic or romantic. I was thinking of a future romantic Patroclus/Zagreus/Achilles relationship while writing this, you can interpret it any way you wish. This is just if anyone was curious what was on my mind.

Zagreus took the Kiss of Styx with a wide smile even though the ends of his hair were singed on the side and his left arm looked like it had been run over by a chariot. Such was the privilege of a God, Patroclus mused, that such injuries would never be more than trivial. At least Patroclus’s gifts would keep him going a little while longer.

He expected the prince to depart with a cheery wave now that he’d claimed his prize and rush onward with his journey through the underworld, but instead, he twisted around and rummaged for something in his clothes. Patroclus almost let out an exasperated sigh, having come to expect the unnecessary generosity he was certainly about to receive.

Sure enough, Zagreus turned back with a gleaming bottle of nectar in hand, holding it out to him with a smile. Patroclus _did_ sigh then, but he accepted the drink without argument. “You owe me neither time nor generosity, and certainly not this. But if you truly have no better use for it...”

Zagreus pursed his lips. “It’s not a matter of owe, sir. Please open your mind to the possibility, nay, the fact, that there are those who care about your wellbeing.”

Patroclus paused at that, despondent thoughts quieting for a moment at such a statement. He leveled a searching stare at the prince then clicked his tongue. “Achilles, you mean? I appreciate that you’ve told me more of his fate, but you don’t need to feel obligated to give me these on his behalf. Don’t waste your own fine possessions playing messenger to his affections-”

“No-!” Zagreus interrupted, making Patroclus pause once again. “It’s not- for Achilles’ sake, sir, or anyone else’s for that matter. I give you these on my own behalf because _I_ care about your wellbeing. I want you to know that.”

Patroclus stared, dragging his gaze up and down his form, baffled by his apparent sincerity. “I suppose stranger things have happened,” he mused aloud, slowly. Zagreus pulled a face at that, clearly unsatisfied with such a response. “If this is about the things I offer you, you really don’t need to feel indebted.” He nudged a container of HydraLite with an idle finger.

The prince sighed heavily and rolled his eyes just enough for Patroclus to notice and frown at. “It’s not that either,” he huffed in exasperation. “It’s just... I can tell cruel circumstances have taken a toll on you and I refuse to be yet another cruelty that adds to your burden. In fact, I’d rather like to be a circumstance that helps make your situation here at least a little bit better.” And then, to top off his whole speech, the most preposterous statement yet: “You deserve it.”

Patroclus laughed. A true, full body laugh of the sort he couldn’t remember doing in, well- he couldn’t remember. It... felt _good._

“No I don’t!” he declared, bewildered and amused. Zagreus scowled fiercely and started tapping a fiery foot in frustration, which only served to add to his amusement. “I don’t know where you got that idea in your head, stranger, but a desolate shade in some forgotten corner of Elysium hardly deserves the attention of a prince, much less his care.”

Zagreus’s scowl faltered momentarily at the implication that the warrior was well aware of who he was, but he shook his head to rid himself of the distraction. “You’re wrong,” he stated simply. Standing there, arms crossed, he looked as unyielding as the statue that kept Patroclus company.

Heaving a sigh, Patroclus asked, “Achilles taught you, didn’t he?”

Zagreus narrowed his eyes, clearly unhappy with the change in topic, but he still answered, “He provided my combat training, yes.”

“I can see where you got that stubbornness then.” Zagreus’s glaring faltered as humor bled into his expression.

“No, the stubbornness was definitely there beforehand, but I suppose he never made any attempt to curb it.” He shifted his weight, one hand on his hip, radiating a sort of good natured smugness that made the corners of Patroclus’s lips twitch up despite himself. “Although, since you seem familiar with my sort of stubbornness, you should know that I’m not going to back down on this.”

“No, I suppose you’re not,” Patroclus admitted. “I’ve learned better than to argue with obstinate fools,” he said mildly.

Zagreus finally allowed a full smile to break across his face at that. “Sounds like you have me pegged, mate. Except in this instance,” he clarified with a quirk of the brow, “because I’m _right._ Seems to me like I’d best just keep lavishing my gifts whenever I’m fortunate enough to find you to prove to you that you deserve it.”

It was Patroclus rolling his eyes this time, though he couldn’t muster any true frustrations with the son of Hades. “I can’t pretend to understand why you care, much less why you feel the need to prove that you do, but I’m certainly not haughty enough to refuse your gifts if you want to keep giving them.” He rubbed a thumb thoughtlessly over the ribbon of the latest offering the prince had just presented him with. “I haven’t found myself fond of many of the comforts Elysium has to offer but... nectar is pleasant. I must admit.”

When he returned his gaze to those mismatched eyes, something tightened where his heart used to be. Zagreus’s irritation had left him, leaving behind a fond smile and a relaxed posture, so casual and familiar. This man was truly, deeply kind in a way Patroclus could scarcely wrap his mind around, asking nothing in return. _God-_ not man, he had to remind himself, which made that fact even more strange.

“I can work with that, I think,” Zagreus told him amiably. “I have to keep going up, but, just remember what I told you, okay?”

Since the first time Zagreus stumbled across his little corner of Elysium, Patroclus had found pondering over their conversations a welcome respite from his only other pastime of gnawing over his past. So, even though he wasn’t sure what words Zagreus was referring to, he answered, “I won’t forget,” because he wouldn’t. Not any of them.

With a wave and a “Take care, then!” the prince proceeded to the next chamber.

No, Patroclus would remember everything Zagreus said and think long and hard on it all after he departed. Such a strange thing. He couldn’t understand how someone could supposedly care so sincerely for a person who was essentially a stranger to them.

Patroclus stumbled upon a sort of understanding he wasn’t expecting when he next saw Zagreus.

The slide of a door heralded the prince’s arrival, but Patroclus didn’t cut off his contemplative mutterings on his account. They helped organize his thoughts, he’d found. He did pause for the time being, though, as he listened to flame wreathed footsteps come up the stairs toward him. He glanced over when he noticed their relative slowness.

Patroclus had never risen on account of his 'stranger' before, but he shot to his feet now. Zagreus’s battered and beaten appearance wasn’t the reason for his alarm, at least, not in and of itself. It was the way he _held_ himself, exhausted, defeated, and pained in combination with his extensive injuries that made adrenaline he didn’t even know he could feel anymore rear its head.

He dashed over to Zagreus, sliding an arm beneath his own to support his weight. He lifted his head just enough for tired, grief filled eyes to meet Patroclus’s own from beneath his dark hair.

Out of habit (given the lack of any need), the shade exhaled a shaky breath as he guided the prince over to his usual resting spot. Just as Patroclus had never stood during their little encounters, the prince had never sat. He went readily enough now, though, as he lowered him down to the cobblestones.

“Sorry about this,” Zagreus said, his attempted levity clearly strained. “Rotten luck this time. I got pretty battered coming up here.”

That much was obvious as Patroclus’s gaze scanned his skin with a sort of franticness, noticing a plethora of abrasions, gashes, burn marks, and deep, ugly bruises. His fingernails dug into his palms as he cursed the fact that nothing he had would offer any quick relief from his injuries.

“That’s not it,” Patroclus stated. It was not a question. Zagreus flinched and looked away.

This was far from the first time Zagreus had come to him badly wounded. Broken ribs, puncture wounds, ragged burns, twisted ankles, embedded arrow heads, still bleeding lacerations, Patroclus had seen all that and more marring the body of the god, sometimes an alarming number at once.

He had not worried overly much about it before for a few reasons. First and foremost was the fact that Zagreus was indeed a god and no such injuries could deal him lasting damage. But perhaps more important than that was the fact that none of those wounds ever seemed to touch his spirit. Zagreus carried himself with the same strength and vibrancy he always did, even as bruised as he sometimes got, giving Patroclus no reason to doubt that he could push on to the surface and be as good as ever when the cycle inevitably restarted anew.

This was not that.

It was jarring how different Zagreus looked now than every other time he had seen him. His shoulders slumped heavily, his fingers twitched with distracted anxiety, he kept his head down, not meeting his eye, he was _sitting down_ for Gods’ sake-!

Clearly, pain had touched a depth in his core that it hadn’t reached before. And given that resilience to _physical_ pain the prince had displayed, there was obviously more at play.

Patroclus gently sat next to him, arranging himself so that he was right beside him but also facing him, legs laid out in the opposite direction of Zagreus’s own. The prince looked at him from the corner of his eye, brows furrowed from stress. Patroclus had to suppress the instinct to reach out and lay a hand on his shoulder, unsure if such a thing would be welcome.

“What is it?” Patroclus asked carefully, imploringly. “Lay your woes on me.”

Zagreus grimaced and averted his gaze. “It’s nothing, sir, I don’t want to burden you further.” There was a tight quality to his voice, subtle but noticeable nonetheless. His fingers, with bloody, scraped knuckles, worried at the edge of his chiton.

Patroclus huffed softly. “You’re as polite as ever but this clearly isn’t nothing. And you don’t need to worry about me, I wouldn’t be offering to listen if I didn’t feel up to hearing you.” Zagreus met his eyes with a certain desperation underlying his expression. “So please,” he continued gently, “tell me what has you so distressed.”

With a sigh, Zagreus refixed his gaze on the river Lethe, but some of the tension did leave his shoulders. Patroclus waited patiently as he seemed to ponder his request.

“I shouldn’t have tried to escape right now,” He said eventually. “I’m too distracted and it’s making me sloppy. I think every wretch between here and Tartarus got a hit in on me. I’m surprised I even made it this far.”

He was beating around the bush, but Patroclus didn’t deny him that; he could broach this in whatever way he wanted. He said instead, “I’ve never known your focus to be anywhere other than tearing through the underworld over and over. Well, that and sticking your nose in other people’s business,” he added without heat. “Your distraction must be quite something to make you forget such lofty goals.”

The twitch of Zagreus’s lips was a ghost of his usual smile, fading instantly. “It’s... You can’t tell anyone this, but the reason I’ve been going through the underworld is to reach the surface.” He had heard as much, through rumors from passing shades.

“I’m trying to reach my mother, who lives up there.”

That he _hadn’t_ heard and he couldn’t deny the surge of his curiosity at learning the motivation for his fervent escape attempts. He was under the impression that his mother was the Goddess of night, but clearly, the truth of his parentage was more complex than that.

Zagreus rubbed the back of his neck in weariness. “And I _have_ reached her. Although, as it turns out... I can’t survive up there on the surface for very long, but every time I make it, I get at least a few minutes in her company. I’ve met with her a handful of times now.”

He didn’t appear particularly enthusiastic about that fact. Patroclus wondered who exactly this distant mother was. “She wasn’t all you expected her to be, then?” Patroclus guessed gingerly.

“No, no!” Zagreus said quickly. “Mother, she’s- she’s wonderful and lovely and I’m so glad to have met her. It’s just-” He released a low groan and his face twisted in frustration and pain and perhaps something else he couldn’t fully identify.

“Some unforeseen problem’s come up then?” Patroclus hazarded another guess.

The prince sighed. “Yes, you could say that,” he murmured.

He went silent after that but Patroclus didn’t mind waiting. He watched the milky mist of the Lethe tumble over itself, curling around in ever shifting patterns as the waters flowed silently beneath. Usually, when he looked over the river, his mind would shift unbidden to the idea of drinking from it and forgetting his whole, painful past. Not this time. Even as he eyed the Lethe, his thoughts remained focused on whatever might be the source of Zagreus’s pain.

“I made it to her the last time,” he started slowly. “But when I did, she told me... she told me to never come back.” Patroclus’s spine stiffened. “She just... told me to go back home, even though that would mean we’d never see each other again. She didn’t _cry_ or try to figure out another way or- anything, she just- said goodbye. As the Styx claimed me again.”

Patroclus noticed, then, a flickering light in his gaze that reminded him of Zagreus’s usual fire. “I’m going back again, I have to, I can’t let things end like this! But... part of me doesn’t know what to _do_ anymore knowing... that my mother was perfectly content with the idea of living the rest of eternity without anything to do with me.” He wrapped an arm around himself, hand fixed on his opposite arm. “I don’t know. I just don’t know.”

 _The rest of eternity,_ Patroclus noticed; so his mother must be a God as well. Not a mortal who might then have at least some excuse to not want to be involved in the business of the divine. No, some Goddess who, with no shortage of otherworldly powers, _still_ didn’t bother to try and stay in contact with her son. With _Zagreus._

The prince hit a fist harshly against his thigh in frustration. “I don’t know why it hurts so much, it shouldn’t!” he hissed in a rush. “My father has always resented my presence and made it abundantly clear he doesn’t want anything to do with me; I should be used to it by now.”

Patroclus released a harsh breath.

“I _was,_ at first, prepared for mother to feel the same way, for her to hate me. But then, she was so warm and kind that I thought... things might be different with her. I guess it just hurts more to think that in the beginning only to find out that I was wrong.”

In the privacy of his thoughts, Patroclus cursed the unknown woman and her callousness viciously. Aloud, he said in a flat voice, “You deserve better.”

Zagreus regarded him with an expression he couldn’t identify.

“Maybe it’s that, if I did as she asked, I know things would go back to just the way they were before,” he posited. “Even without father’s constant berating, and everyone except for a few being so distant with me, I _still_ never felt like I belonged there. I leapt at having a reason to try and break free from there, I didn’t even hesitate. I wanted so badly for something to change.”

He picked at the edge of his scraped knuckle with a blunt fingernail. “If nothing changes, then what would be the point? I know now that I can’t survive up on the surface, and now, the only person I can reach up there doesn’t want anything to do with me. I’d just be stuck down here, everything just as bad as it was before. Maybe that’s why it hurts so much; knowing that’s what mother thinks would be the best for me.”

“Do you think that you could convince her?” Patroclus asked, trying to hold on to hope that Zagreus wouldn’t have to keep carrying this pain. “That that’s not the way you want to be- or _should be_ living?”

“I don’t know,” Zagreus breathed tiredly. “My mother said she agreed with the way my father thinks everything should be arranged. _He’s_ never changed his mind on anything, especially not for the sake of my wellbeing, so I don’t know if I can expect anything different from mother. I just... didn’t expect her to take his side in all this.”

“They sound unfairly similar in this regard,” he admitted grimly.

Zagreus met his gaze sharply for the first time since they started talking. “You’re right, they do. I couldn’t believe it when she said all that; she seemed so different than father before! He’s been cruel for as long as I can remember but she felt so- naturally affectionate. They feel so different, so _fundamentally_ different, I just can’t believe that _this_ is the thing they agree on! I- ah...

“That’s it,” Zagreus concluded at length. “That’s it, isn’t it? My father hates me and doesn’t want me, but he hates everyone and doesn’t have any use for anything he can’t put to work for himself. Of course he wouldn’t want me; I get it, I get it.” He glared at the paving stones under his legs with ferocious rage and, just beneath that, intense agony. “But my mother is- she’s kind and caring and vibrant and nurturing and- and-” He squeezed his eyes shut. “And she _still_ doesn’t want me.”

He dragged in a long, shuddering breath. He opened his eyes and, as Patroclus watched, the anger bled out of Zagreus’s expression, leaving something far, far worse in its wake as his grief and pain showed in all their strength.

“What if it’s just me? What if father was right about everything he’s said about me and my mother, as kind and _accepting_ as she is, only needed- ten minutes with me to decide she never wanted to see me again! Maybe if I was different, if I was better, she wouldn’t have-” He blinked rapidly. “What if she doesn’t want me because I’m just not good enough, that I’ll never- I’m not-”

His voice broke.

At last surrendering to the rage boiling his blood, Patroclus turned his head and _spat,_ with vitriol, with _scorn,_ at the ground. It was probably in bad taste, but at least it startled that agonized expression off Zagreus’s face.

“Damn her if she believes such bullshit as that!” he hissed. “Only a fool would see you like that, or think you’re not enough, I _know that.”_ Zagreus stared at him with wide unblinking eyes. “Listen to me,” he entreated. “Amongst everyone I’ve known, in life and in death, your passion and your _kindness_ are unparalleled. It takes a good person to offer kindness a forgotten shade like me you’ve stumbled across on your path. And not just courtesy, but time and energy too. Even from the first time I met you, I knew you were a good person. If your mother, in all her _kindness,_ can’t see that, then she’s nothing more than a fool.

“Don’t shoulder this weight yourself, please. You _are not_ at fault for this, your mother is. She-” Patroclus swallowed, forcing himself to keep in mind the fondness with which Zagreus spoke of the woman and that insulting her as much as he wanted to would likely _not_ help. “You don’t need to be something different to be worthy of care and affection; you’re enough _exactly as you are._ Go back to her if you think it’s best, because anyone with eyes should be able to recognize your heart. But if she refuses to see it, even then, then she is selfish and cruel and not worth another minute of your time!”

He remembers Achilles and all his prodigious rage and thinks he might have rubbed off on him just a little.

“I don’t think...” Zagreus’s face was pinched in distress. “I don’t believe that she’s such a bad person to be talked about like that.” There was a defensive tone to his voice but it was devoid of anger and riddled with grief.

“You may be right, but good people still do wretched things,” he stated firmly, but with as much kindness as he could. “Good intentions and cruel actions can exist hand in hand. And you shouldn’t accept her cruel treatment just because she’s shown you kindness before. You don’t have to take this from her lying down just because she’s nice to other people at other times. She has hurt _you, now._

“If your mother is as gentle hearted as you say, she will take back her words and apologize to you, even if it takes some time. If she doesn’t... then you should just leave her behind just like you’ve made every effort to leave your miserable father.”

Zagreus’s shoulders hunched at that and he didn’t immediately reply. His fingers fiddled with a golden leaf shed by his laurels for a time.

“How can you be so sure that this isn’t about me?” the prince whispered then. “You... haven’t known me as long as others have. How can you say with such confidence that my mother hasn’t cast me aside because I don’t deserve her love? After everything I’ve _messed up_ in my life, it would make sense, in a way.”

Patroclus sighed, grief and tenderness flickering in his chest. Zagreus wouldn’t meet his eye.

Perhaps it was for the best that he didn’t see the way his brow creased deeply, lest he mistake his sympathy for pity.

“You make a deliberate effort to improve the world around you,” he said, slowly, carefully, but resolutely. “It is _very easy_ to pass people by without a care as you go through life. Most people do. Gods know that I did that many times when I still lived. It is harder to devote time and energy to those around you. And harder still to do so without intending to get something in return. At yet, that’s how you’ve treated me. Your company, your conversation, your generous gifts, and even- _especially..._ your promise to try to help me and Achilles... is all simply, _truly_ kind. And yes, the way I know you is limited, but I don't doubt for a moment that you acted in such a way because it is part of your _nature.”_

Zagreus’s arm twitched up, but he aborted the movement halfway through, leaving the limb hovering between them. After a heartbeat’s hesitation, Patroclus leaned forward and grabbed his forearm, Zagreus’s wrist resting over Patroclus’s palm. He brought his other hand to clasp over Zagreus’s arm. The prince’s fingers twitched in surprise, then curled tightly around his arm in return.

“You told me yourself that you wanted to be something that makes my time here at least a little better. You’ve done that and much more. My opinions may be subjective, but I feel the utmost confidence saying that you, Zagreus, are a force of good in the world.”

He jolted at the sound of his name on Patroclus’s lips, eyes widening in shock. He brought his other arm to the tangle between them. His hands clutched desperately at Patroclus’s arms. He lowered his head and dragged in an aching breath.

Patroclus did not watch to see if tears fell. He merely offered his hands, curled lightly around his wrists, and his company, quiet for the moment.

After a long while, Zagreus mumbled, “I didn’t know you knew my name.”

Patroclus pulled back a hand to rub at the back of his neck sheepishly. “Ah, well... word does get around, even to my isolated corner of Elysium eventually. At first, I thought it best not use your name when you hadn’t volunteered it, though I do admit, I’ve sort of been teasing you with the ‘stranger’ business lately.”

Zagreus laughed, the sound weak but the inflection sincere. “You can. By the way. Use my name, that is.”

“I shall keep that in mind, stranger.”

Zagreus’s grin widened, and although it faded slowly, Patroclus couldn’t help but feel satisfied at its presence.

“Thank you,” Zagreus rasped, “for hearing out my troubles and giving me your advice; you didn’t have to do that. I’m in your debt.”

Patroclus groaned in aggravation. “None of that nonsense alright? What was it exactly that you said to me? Open your mind to the fact that there are those that _care_ for you.”

Zagreus stared at him for several long moments, blinking rapidly, then he _beamed._ “Come to a better understanding of what I was talking about then, mate?”

Patroclus huffed and tilted his head away haughtily. “I suppose I did,” he allowed. “Although, even then, someone caring about _you_ is a very different thing than someone caring about _me._ I really don’t understand all the fuss you make about me.”

His ribs constricted around his hollow chest at the sight of Zagreus’s gaze filled with such immense fondness. “Oh yeah? What about all this then? You making sure I was alright, listening to everything on my mind, encouraging me and defending me and being kind to me for no other reason than making me feel better? A goal that you very much succeeded in? I think you need to open your mind to the fact that _you’re_ a good person too.”

Patroclus parted his lips, shut them, then swallowed. He could think of nothing to say to that.

Zagreus seemed to notice as much as his amused expression faded into warm affection. “I’ll keep the things you said in mind.” He pulled his arms back, starting to fidget where he sat. “I really do appreciate all the help.”

Patroclus thought of many things he could say to that. He swallowed down a _Think nothing of it_ first. He decided against voicing the thought that _It’s the least I could do after all you’ve done for me._ Eventually, he simply said, “I’ll be here whenever you need me.”

“Well, I need you now!” Zagreus chirped, rearranging his legs beneath himself restlessly. “Nothing I can do but keep going up and I won’t last more than a minute as I am now.”

“Well then,” Patroclus hummed with a loose grin. “You’d better pick your poison so I can send you on your way.”

“I’ll have to take the Kiss of Styx,” the prince stated, as he often did. “Need a few more chances to make it through all this mess.” Patroclus handed over the dark, little vial and Zagreus downed the contents in a swift swallow. He was pleased to see that the God had clearly reclaimed some of his usual energy when he stood up and brushed himself off, bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet.

“I suppose I’m off then.” His gaze settled on the far door. “I’m not going to let it end like this, I _won’t.”_ Patroclus scoffed fondly at the intense focus on his face.

“Here.” Just as he was turning to leave, he tossed Zagreus the little jar of HydraLite which he caught out of reflex. He stared down at it in surprise.

“This as well?”

“Yes, but just between you and me,” Patroclus replied. “I’m not sure how pleased the exalted warriors of Elysium would be to find out I’m stacking the odds against them.” Leaning forward conspiratorially, he quipped, “I do always put my money on you after all.”

Zagreus tossed his head back and laughed, a soothing sound if Patroclus had ever heard one. “Well, I’d hate to be the reason you lose any bets, especially ones placed with such confidence in me.” He twisted around the top of the jar to the right position for the concoction to release its steady healing and fastened it to his belt.

“Thank you,” Zagreus said, striding forward once more. “For everything.”

“Always, Zagreus.”

The seal of the door cracked open, but he hesitated. He cast a single glance back at Patroclus, lips parted like he had something more to say. Then he turned back and raced forward, sparks kicked up by his feet lingering in the air for a few moments after the door closed behind him.

**Author's Note:**

> The dialogue “You owe me neither time nor generosity, and certainly not this. But if you truly have no better use for it...” “It’s not a matter of owe, sir. Please open your mind to the possibility, nay, the fact, that there are those who care about your wellbeing.” is canon from the game after you give him nectar. It really stuck with me, along with Persephone telling Zagreus to never come back, which I happened to get on the very same run.
> 
> UPDATE: GO LOOK AT THIS INCREDIBLE ART FROM THIS AMAZING ARTIST BASED ON THIS FIC!!!!!!! https://ahshureyakno.tumblr.com/post/640030235774124032/so-i-read-this-lovely-story-called-open-your-mind


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